


And you can't get away, oh you'll never get away

by KhioneFrost



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Dead TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Mentioned Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Resurrection, Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:48:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29796279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KhioneFrost/pseuds/KhioneFrost
Summary: In which Dream ponders his actions and decides he may have gone a little too far. But after all, what is death to theGod of the server?(Spoilers for Tommy's 03/01 stream)
Relationships: Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 55





	And you can't get away, oh you'll never get away

After the deed is done, Dream washes his hands in the cauldron, watching the red swirls slide off his fingers and float downwards. There's a strange buzzing in his head, an odd sort of clarity that only comes from letting his fists meet flesh over and over until the movement stops. Dream revels in it, even as it clears the rage clouding his vision and he recognizes with a tinge of regret that objectively, that he's made a mistake.

In the short term, of course, Tommy needed to be taught a lesson, and Dream needed to prove his knowledge of the book. But in the long term, it will only further enrage everyone on the server  _ (even though he only wants what's best for them, wants to bring them together, weave string around their rib caves and bind them to him _ ). Furthermore, the effects of reanimating Tommy remain fully theoretical. Rebirth works best with clean deaths, and the...state of the body is anything but.

Shaking his hands, Dream wanders back to Tommy, studying him with a critical eye. He winces a bit. The skull is caved in on one side by the looks of it, nose most certainly broken and listing, and there's so much blood that there could certainly be more wounds Dream just can't see right now. Some of his ribs are most certainly broken or fractured, his shoulder likely dislocated from Dream yanking on it, organs could be ruptured. An animalistic death, from an animalistic killer.

Dream frowns, crouched by Tommy's head. He pushes a tendril of blond hair away from his forehead, leaving a bloody smear. This was...not his finest moment. As much Tommy angers him some- _ most _ of the time, he can't help but feel some remorse. This is the kind of death someone else might deserve (Dream's fists knocking off Technoblade's pig skull, a trail of blood following as both arc through the blue sky, Sapnap staring at him with fiery rage from one working eye like he hadn't fucking betrayed the only person who  _ really _ gave a shit about him), but not Tommy. His fists spasm for a moment, knocking unpleasantly against bone at the thought of  _ them _ , before he regains control, straightening out his fingers with painful effort. 

Tommy just doesn't know better, he reasons, thumb tracing possessively down over the fractured cheekbone down to his jaw and flicking off. He’d been trained out of the good behavior Dream's instilled in him, by people who didn’t know that Tommy  _ needed _ an iron fist to function best, worked best with a fire lit underneath his feet. Dream can bring him back better this time. Really, this week of letting Tommy annoy him could have been better spent reworking him, and then they wouldn't have had to come to this at all. In the end, it's Tommy’s fault, as it usually is. He’s lucky to have someone like Dream, who actually cares.

Shaking his head back to reality, and to the dead teenager in front of him, Dream gets up, wiping his palms off on his grimy jumpsuit. The question is, of course, whether to bring him back now or use him as a bargaining chip. Both have their benefits; either he proves that the rebirth ritual is real, and finalizes his power over this fucking server, or he can convince Sam or Tubbo or whoever to let him out.

By now though, it's been quiet long enough that the ticking starts up again, thrumming in his head painfully. It's only a matter of time until Dream starts hallucinating again, creeper hissing in his ear or George telling him to shut the door, until the dripping of the crying obsidian burns his skin with gnawing frigidity. No one’s coming this time, not after what he’s done, no way to escape the cell even temporarily. As much as it galls him to admit it, he needs Tommy right now, obnoxious singing and yelling and all. Besides, he decides, rolling up his sleeves, he can always kill him again, (a cleaner death, this time), if need be.

Going to his chest, he pulls out several of his ink bottles and a quill, placing them carefully on the ground. Grabbing Tommy by the legs, he pulls him into the center of the cell, spreading his arms and legs so he resembles a child making a snow angel (Dream huffs a bit, at that thought). As best he can, carrying handfuls of water back and forth from the cauldron, he slowly washes the blood from Tommy's face, red flushing away to reveal ugly yellows and browns and pinks. He sets the shoulder and the nose, but the rest is beyond him, and will have to be fixed with the ritual.

Finally, Dream uncorks one of the ink bottles, and traces a circle around the body. It's hard to trace and even harder to avoid smudging on the dark obsidian, to his annoyance. Tommy better be fucking grateful. Then, using his fingers, he traces runes around the inside of the circle, and then on each hand and foot, on the forehead, over the heart, the rib cage. It's so repetitive and tedious that Dream understands, with growing frustration, why the ritual has so far remained theoretical on the server.

Once everything is done and Tommy resembles a coloring book more than a corpse, Dream picks up the quill and positions it over his palm, sighing a bit. Like any good ritual, it requires blood (of the caster for this one, rudely), and without any sharp objects allowed in the cell he just has to-

In a fluid movement, Dream stabs the quill into his palm and yanks it out, hissing. Ignoring the sting, he clenches his fist and holds it above Tommy's mouth, forcing it open with his other hand. Blood drips down out of his fist, splattering onto split lips and onto a limp tongue. When the flow dries up, Dream releases his head, leaving five circular bruises around the mouth. Satisfied, he removed the ruined quill and the ink, and clambers onto his bed to wait. With everything that needs to heal, it's two hours before Tommy shoots up violently with a gasp, hands reaching up to block nothing. Dream looks up lazily from his book. He smiles.

"Hey Tommy," he says, wiggling his fingers in a casual wave. Then, propelled by the naked terror in Tommy's eyes, he continues. "How were Wilbur and Schlatt?"


End file.
